Rare Pair Week
by loosingletters
Summary: My entries for Rare Pair Week. Neallen, Timothx x Eaze, Wisely x Allen and finally Narain x Allen.
1. Neallen

**I participated in the DGM Rare Pair week and these are my entries! Starting with Neallen, my all time fave.**

 **Prompts: Purple, Royalty, Creativity, Determination, Opulence, Wisdom, Maturity**

Nea stared at the prince standing in front of him and couldn't help but pity him. Stripped bare of his riches and fine robes, all that was left was a brat with nothing to himself but his name and rage.

Poor little princeling, having lost everything.

"How much have you fallen from God's grace to come to me?" Nea asked curious of what could have driven far enough to seek out the help of a demon.

"What grace?" The prince retorted, glaring at Nea with his bright gray eyes.

Perhaps Nea had misjudged the human in front of him. That was not the glare of a boy, oh no. A child is unable to hate as strong as the prince. There was fire in his eyes and Nea would enjoy seeing the spark into a bonfire.

"The only thing I've been graced with is pain. If that is God's understanding of a gift, then I don't want it," the prince spat.

"Big words for a human like you at the constant mercy of a higher power."

The prince smiled, if one could call the baring of his teeth that, rather cockily.

"Like you are any different from me. Discarded from heaven was it, oh so powerful light bringer, because you didn't want to grovel at your father's feet anymore, right? Stripped bare of your title and wings-"

Before the prince could continue, Nea stepped forward, enjoying the shocked expression of the human as Nea left the summoning circle behind him. Easily he reached for the prince's throat, black claws digging into warm flesh, and held him up by it. The man weighed almost nothing.

"Don't try my patience," Nea hissed but that just seemed to aggravate the human further.

"Or what? You'll kill me? _Get in line_."

For a moment Nea really considered just dragging his fist through the man's chest and rid him of his heart. He certainly deserved it for disrespecting him like that, for making him remember the feeling of first his wings and backs being on fire, than his whole being screaming in pain as all signs of grace were burnt out of him.

But the little prince had shown a surprisingly huge amount of courage for a human. It was refreshing, which made it _almost_ a waste to kill him right now.

And so Nea dropped him to his knees, let the human take his precious breath.

"Is that what you do to all of your clients?" The prince asked between coughs.

"Usually there's more blood and death involved."

The man snorted as he slowly stood up again. "How kind of you to let me live then."

"Right?" Nea replied smirking. "Now remember that when you speak to me."

"No promises," the human muttered below his breath, but obviously not too concerned about Nea's threat.

Was he simply that indifferent to death? There was no other possibility to the sheer ignorance the prince displayed.

"What do you want? What have you summoned me for?" Nea asked.

"I want to see the world burn," the man answered and again, there was this determination in his eyes.

Perhaps it wasn't indifference to death but rather that he didn't particularly care if he died in the process of getting his revenge. How _fascinating_.

"You don't need me for that," Nea stated. The man in front of him had figured out how to summon hell's strongest, surely he could forge a plan to ruin his treacherous uncle who had stolen the kingdom from the prince without the aid of a demon.

"Of course I don't," the man sneered. "But they chased me out of my home like one would a demon."

At this he balled his deformed red hand to a fist. It did look similar to the hands of some demons Nea commanded.

"So it's only fair that they die by the hand of a real demon."

As far as Nea was concerned the prince's reasoning was nothing but petty and deceitful. To risk his own life only to get the perfect revenge, _that_ was something Nea could get behind.

"I accept your preposition, little human," Nea said and held out his hand. "I'll help you with your revenge and in turn when you die your soul belongs to me. Deal?"

"My name is _Allen_ ," the prince hissed but shook Nea's hand without hesitation anyway.

"And I'm Nea. Pleasure doing business with you."

 **Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear what you think about this strange little OS.**


	2. Timothy x Eaze

**Next one up is Timothy X Eaze, newly dubbed Timotheaze.**

 **Prompts: Black, Mysterious, Sophisticated, Powerful, Emptiness, Void, Darkness**

Timothy wasn't quite sure if he could trust Eaze. The other teen certainly had helped him whenever he'd been between a rock and a hard place and Timothy liked him probably quite a lot more than legally allowed – but Timothy really didn't want to know how the younger managed to help him every time. He'd spent quite some time in an orphanage of the church, he knew of magic and Eaze reeked of the darkest there was. Yet as far as Timothy could tell, Eaze only used it to help him and without expecting anything for it too. By all means he didn't have the right to question his companion.

Nevertheless Timothy hadn't survived being an orphan by being oblivious, he knew that there was something shady about following his friend into darkness of the freaking cursed woods to meet Eaze's… honestly, Timothy didn't even know who they were supposed to meet. Eaze rarely talked about his family, not that the brown haired boy talked much at all.

All Timothy knew that they were all a bunch of strange people and wouldn't care about the blue haired brat sporting a jewel on his forehead.

Absentmindedly he reached for his new ornament.

Great work that had been, attempting to steal from the treasury of the resident church's grandmaster. It had settled him with a probably dangerous artifact, blue hair and a kill on sight order.

Eaze of course hadn't cared though. He had just asked if Timothy needed a place to stay and told him his new look suited him. He hadn't even batted an eye.

Timothy loved him for it.

"Is it far?" He asked his companion and watched Eaze shake his head while pointing into the distance.

All Timothy could see were even more trees, which didn't necessarily lighten his mood all that much.

"There's nothing- oh." Timothy trailed off as soon as Eaze had grabbed his hand and the trees made way for a medium sized house. Now he could also hear the sound coming from the house. Cheerful voices filled the previously silent void of the forest.

Eaze easily pushed the white door open and stepped inside. Timothy followed him hesitantly, eyes drifting from one side to another, seeing but not quite comprehending the flying table ware and food.

Eaze appeared to be unbothered by them though, seemed used to it all, and just hung up his coat and took off his boots, urging Timothy to do the same. He reluctantly followed suit but kept his bag with his few belongings close.

Timothy shadowed the other teen as he navigated the two of them through the chaos into another room which then revealed itself as the kitchen. There stood a rather short man, face still young unlike the ages Timothy had expected to see because his white hair.

"Welcome back, Eaze," the man greeted with a smile and offered Timothy his hand.

"I'm Allen Walker. Nice to meet you. I've been waiting for the day I could finally put a face to your name. Eaze talks about you frequently."

"He does?" Timothy asked and turned to look at his friend who did his best to look into another direction.

"Constantly," Allen reassured him. "Now, what do you two want for dinner?"

In awe Timothy watched as Allen began to prepare their food, ingredients flying all around the room and knives cutting them on their own without anyone holding them.

"Who are you?" Timothy asked Allen. He'd never met somebody who used magic so open and freely. Even if light magic wasn't forbidden, everyone was careful with using it, fearing they'd be accused of doing dark magic either way.

"Eaze's step-in guardian. His actual guardian is… busy. And I owned him one."

The annoyance in Allen's voice was clear.

"Tyki still brags to everyone about beating you at poker," Eaze spoke up, his voice as soft and calm as always.

"That demon _cheated!_ It wasn't even a fair win."

"And you of course don't cheat."

"Exactly," Allen replied. "I might consort with demons but I'm not as bad as them."

Timothy tried his hardest to not appear like a total idiot but probably failed spectacularly considering that the man had just admitted to dealing with demons. He glanced at Eaze but it didn't seem to faze his friend at all.

Was that were the dark magic had come from? Was Eaze dealing with _demons_!?

"Are you alright, Timothy?" Allen asked, appearing genuinely concerned.

"Yeah," Timothy replied hoarsely. "Just a little overwhelmed."

"Oh, don't worry. You'll get used to this after some time."

Timothy honestly didn't know if that was calming or threatening because the idea of getting used to demons and dark magic wasn't something he had ever wanted to consider something he would need to get used to.

Then again he was already wanted dead on sight.

What was another crime in his life if he was already getting the highest sentence one way or another?

 **Join me in rare pair hell.**


	3. Allen x Wisely

**This one features Wisely x Allen. Still need a name for that...**

 **Prompts: White, Winter, Clarity, Beginnings, Neutrality, Divine, Light**

Winter was always the harshest season for Red. Most of the time he was wet and due to his light clothes he was always cold. The icy winds nearly knocked him over every time he dared to leave his hideout and the snow made it harder to run and escape the police when they caught him stealing.

Additionally everyone but him was disgustingly happy, which didn't help his mood either. Christmas carols were sung all around the city, the window stalls of the shops were full with gifts wrapped in colorful papers.

Red couldn't understand how everyone could be so happy in such a miserable season.

Even those other street rats, the homeless and have-nots appeared to be more cheerful, though by all means they should be just as bitter as him.

Red walked downtown to the market, hoping to grab a few wallets and bread from distracted shoppers and vendors. Now that everyone was hurrying to finish their Christmas preparations, they were especially careless.

The dirty snow of the streets crunched beneath his ragged and damaged boots. By the time spring would warm up the air again, he'd definitely need new ones. Perhaps he could find some after the holidays. People tended to throw out their old and used but often still functioning perfectly well, belongings as they were replaced with new ones. Surely somebody would discard his old shoes in favor of new black leather boots they'd find beneath their Christmas tree.

"I didn't steal your money! I swear!"

"Don't lie to me, boy!"

Red turned his head into the direction of the commotion. A man was holding up a boy around Red's own age, shouting at him to give him back his money. Meanwhile just a few meters away from the two, another child was running away, disappearing in the welcomed darkness of the narrow alleys this city offered them as protection.

The boy probably really wasn't lying to the man. Red would know; he'd seen the other's stealing attempts a few times before and the boy was too damn stupid, whiny and clumsy to steal from anyone.

Although the real name of the boy alluded Red, not that he, the one without a proper name in this first place, particularly cared about it, he had dubbed the boy 'Smartass' in his mind. The few phrases they had exchanged on their encounters had proven the other to be a wordsmith of unusual origin. Red remembered the other's delicate wording and vocabulary which belonged everywhere but on the streets, as well as unwanted and unneeded worldly wisdom.

The screaming and shouting continued on for a while until Smartass could fool his way out of the man's grip and disappeared in the masses.

Soon after Red arrived at the market. Unfortunately it seemed like many others of his kind had the same idea as him as he saw a poorly dressed kids hush through the people and here and there a policeman keeping watch.

Nevertheless Red began to work his way from one end of the market to the other and by the time he was done, the sun was already setting.

His pockets weren't as full as he would have liked but the hunger wasn't tearing at his stomach anymore so he considered it a success.

He was on his way back home, if one could call the mostly dry place between two boxed in an abandoned building that, when he felt someone trying to sneak up on him.

Promptly Red turned around, finding Smartass' face after just a few seconds, and walked up to him.

"Nice going, Smartass," Red commented.

He grinned. "I'd like to see you do better. Your spoil isn't much today, is it?"

"At least I have something at all."

"And surely it'll last you through the holidays. I, for one, will hide out in one of the churches. They hand out free food for orphans on Christmas. You should go to," Smartass said and tried to reach into the left pocket of Red's jacket.

Red quickly hit his hand away, scowling at the other boy.

"And there it is again, your famous frown!"

"Don't you have anything better to do, Smartass."

"My name isn't Smartass," the boy stated completely ignoring the rest of Red's sentence. "I'm simply clever and wise."

"I'll be sure to remember your cleverness next time we meet, you wise idiot." Red turned left and sped up, hoping he'd be able to lose the other boy in the maze of roads ahead of him.

"Merry Christmas, Bordeaux!" He heard the other shout but when he turned around he was gone.

"It's red," he hissed and disappeared in the shadows of London.

 **Try to take Wisely and Allen knowing each other from my cold dead hands I dare you. And leave a review pleeeaase?**


	4. Wisely x Allen

**I just love this AU okay. Wisely x Allen childhood friends again.**

 **Prompts: Green, Envy, Nature, Spring, Rebirth, Growth, Life**

This year's March was blessed with already warm weather which made travelling from town to town a far more enjoyable experience than it had been in the past months. The sky was clear of any clouds, allowing the sunshine to come through and light up the world in vivid colors.

Flowers bloomed en mass left and right to the road, softly swaying in the wind. Spring painted a peaceful picture of the world in the country side, which was void of all the grey ashes the bigger cities' factories released into the air.

"Allen, Wisely, hurry up! It's such a wonderful day! We can travel lots today!" Mana said and waved at them his hands, urging the two boys to fasten their steps.

"I'm going to strangle him," Red grumbled. "How the _hell_ is he so fast? He's like _ancient_. Can't he slow down? And I'm not his dog. My name's not Allen."

The other boy simply shot Red a glance. "At least you're getting a real name. He calls me by an adjective. That's not how names work."

Red elbowed his friend, the limb harshly connecting with his ribs.

"That hurt!" He cried out and immediately rubbed over his bruised side as if it could lessen the pain.

Nevertheless Red didn't seem to care much. Instead he sped up a bit so he was walking in front of the other boy and fell almost into step with Mana. The man smiled at him with so much joy that Red had to avert his eyes. He didn't understand how Mana could care so much about them. They were just two circus brats who nobody needed or wanted. Yet Mana had picked them up and taken them in. He bought them new clothes, good ones too and not just the cheapest he could find, and shared all of his few and precious belongings with them.

Red was aware that he and Smartass weren't easy. They threw a fit about something more or less important every other day, fought with each other and weren't useful additions to Mana's performances yet. Still the strange man had never raised his voice against them in the three months they had been travelling together now, nor had he been angry about Smartass waking them all up in the middle of the night because of his night terrors or Red's habit to pocket stranger's belongings and avoid churches.

"Allen-"

"My name's Red!" He exclaimed, interrupting Mana.

But the man just continued, ignoring Red's objection. "Isn't nice today? Don't frown so much. Look at Wisely, he enjoys the weather too."

Red turned to look at the smartass who was indeed looking around, perhaps stuck in his dream world again like he was often while appreciated the colorful flower fields around them.

This time though the other boy seemed like he hadn't drifted too far as he voiced his opinion.

"I'd enjoy it more if Allen would stop behaving like a brat."

The smile he gifted Red with was infuriating. It made his blood boil and wish he had two useful hands so that he had a chance of winning against the slightly taller boy in a brawl.

"Like you're any different from me!" He shouted instead of falling back to a more physical reaction.

"I don't shout about my name every other second."

"And it pisses me off! Why don't you care about it?"

"Why do you care so much?" Was the reply Red got instead of a clear answer. "I've been called so many names before since unlike you I don't have red hair and a red arm as my main defining traits. Wisely isn't too bad of a not-actually-a-name name and it suits me, doesn't it? You have to admit, 'Allen' is definitely an improvement to 'Red'. And it makes Mana happy."

That last argument was dirty, using Mana like that. He knew they were indebted to the man or that at least Red felt that way.

He couldn't claim to have any moral high ground over the other boy, nor could he prove to be moved by such, but Red knew how the world worked and he knew that he owed the other worldly man.

"Smartass," Red said, choosing to stop fighting a losing battle.

"My name's Wisely, Allen," the brown haired boy replied and went to catch up with Mana again who had decided to abandon the road in favor of running though the fields, looking not much like an adult but rather just like a kid.

'Allen,' Red mouthed, trying the name. It sounded so proper, so foreign on his tongue.

But if it made Mana happy…

He could live with it.

 **Been thinking of making this Au a separate story...**


	5. Allen x Narain

**I LOVE MY ANIME FILLER SON FIGHT ME**

 **Narain x Allen! Aaah they deserved better!**

 **Prompts: Red, Passion, Excitement, Love, Fire, Blood, Autumn**

It was already dark when Narain opened the door, medical kit already in place as he hadn't packed it away yesterday in the first place.

"You're bleeding," Narain said, glaring disapprovingly down at the gaping wound on Allen's still not healed broken leg. " _Again_."

"Master threw me at some Akuma during my training lesson. But I managed to destroy them all this time," Allen replied, clearly happy about his achievement.

The teenager appeared to be glowing, brighter than any star in the night sky as he talked animatedly about how much stronger he wanted to become still so that he could fight even more and free more Akuma. He spoke about how great it felt when he'd saved those tortured souls and how he understood now why his father wanted him to follow this path.

"That's great," Narain pressed out, his barely contained anger passing by Allen unnoticed as the teenager sat down on the table so that Narain could sew the wound shut.

He'd long since given up arguing with Allen about his chosen profession. Though _chosen_ might by going too far, there was not an ounce of free will in Allen as far as Narain could tell.

He hadn't chosen to become an exorcist, that crystal of God had been with him ever since Allen could remember.

He hadn't chosen to walk this path, his foster father and his good-for-nothing Master had forced it upon him and told him it was the way to go.

Narain couldn't comprehend Allen's unconditional love for his father and loyalty to his Master concerning all things none human when they were the ones destroying Alen in the first place.

Every time he saw his friend nowadays, he was injured in one way or another, often half passed out by the time he reached Narain's home, falling into his arms in exhaustion.

The wound on his leg wasn't even half as bad as some of the injuries he had treated but undoubtedly serious enough that enough men wouldn't make it from Allen's training area to Narain.

How could Allen talk about fighting Akuma for the rest of his life when it was obviously killing him?

"Narain? Are you even listening to me?" Allen asked, waving in front of Narain's eyes with his left hand.

"Of course I am. Say, could you take me along to your lessons next time?"

Allen's eyes widened only so slightly before taking on a darker glance.

"I'm not sure if that's such a good idea, Narain. It's dangerous," he answered reluctantly.

"Alright," Narain said.

He just had to look for Cross Marian on his own then.

"Do you want to sleep here today?"

The _again_ was left unsaid but Narain doubted Allen hadn't heard it either way. Narain didn't mind sharing his bed with his friend most nights of the week if it meant knowing that Allen had slept at all.

He knew well enough about the nightmares Allen pretended he didn't have.

Allen's eyes lit up again, already portraying an enthusiastic _yes_ before his mouth had the chance to follow with a more hesitant "If it's no problem…?"

"It never is," Narain replied, finally finished with his work.

It probably wouldn't scar, most of Allen's injuries didn't. While many people celebrated smooth skin, Narain wished Allen's healing factor would leave him the scars so that Narain had the chance to point at them and say "You nearly died there, I'm sick of saving your life again and again with you never caring about yourself either way."

But God's crystal kept its soldier alive and so Narain would make sure he could keep walking.

He didn't want to know the consequences of Allen being forced to stop.

 **Pleeeeaaase consider these two.**


	6. Narain x Allen

**More Narain x Allen for you.**

 **Eh. Rather me probably.**

 **Prompts: Blue, Water, Rain, Comfort, Relaxation, Intuition, Cool**

Narain loved the rain, it washed away all dark thoughts and left behind a clear view for a fresh start he desperately needed. Because she was gone, dead, forever lost to him just because she had taken a wrong turn.

And he was left standing in the rain, drops of water rolling off his face like tears he couldn't cry anymore.

"Do you want your sister back?" The clown had asked.

Yes, more so than anything else.

But _'Tomorrow will be brighter than today,'_ his sister had always said, optimistic enough for the two of them. She'd always been the one who had given him hope and the ability to smile through the day, the one who made him believe that they would make it.

"No."

The rainfall stopped, the clown was gone and Narain knew where to go.

* * *

"Brat," the general greeted him, appearing more sober than he ever had since Narain first saw him. "You sure you want to do this?"

"I have nothing left here."

And those words _hurt_ like somebody had decided to tear out his heart. What did Narain possess? A few medical books and a roof above his head, neither having much value to him concerning he was alone in this world now.

 _Almost_ alone.

This tiny 'almost', referring to just one person, was the reason he was here. He'd already lost his sister, he wasn't going to lose his best friend too.

"Even nothing is a brighter future than _this_."

There, lying innocently on the man's hand, was that cursed object which forced good people to wither away in a war they hadn't wanted to join.

Narain didn't care about the Holy War as such; as far as he was concerned a poor boy from India didn't need to fight and neither did one from England who had already lost enough.

But if him fighting meant that Allen could live a little longer, a little safer, then Narain would take this chance and enter this blood drenched war.

"I appreciate your warning but I stand by my decision."

The fain humming of God's crystal only grew louder with every word Narain spoke. He'd learnt to ignore it since the first time he came into contact with it but now it was so overwhelmingly boisterous, even if he'd run to the end of the world, the sound would still haunt him.

The general sighed. "You'll need a medium for the Innocence."

"Will these work?" Narain held up a pair of golden bracelets which had adorned his sister's wrists only on special occasions as they were precious family heirlooms.

"They should do."

 **That's it from my side for this year's rare pair week hoping that next year one of these ships won't be permitted to enter.**


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